#even thought that's going to be a lot harder for me because of how i need translations

[akawifeyy]

SO AMERICAN | smau (OP81)

description: you might not be australian, but oscar piastri loves you just the same.

tropes: yapper x listener, he falls first and harder, celebrity actress!fem!reader (you’re the daughter of matt damon, please tell me you all know who he is)

face claim: addison rae

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: sorry for the long wait between posts, i'm not feeling the best right now and i've also had a jam-packed schedule. but anyways! here you go! this is based on ♪ so american / olivia rodrigo, which is one of my fave songs of all time :)

@ f1gossip: The daughter of Matt Damon, Y/N, is reportedly dating McLaren's F1 driver, Oscar Piastri. Thoughts?

tagged: @ f1, @ f1yaps, @ f1talk

comments (5862):

@ user1: she's so pretty omg 😭

-> @ user2: First thought was, "She's everything, and he's just Ken." Y/N is absolutely gorgeous.

@ user3: even though i've been an oscar girlie since day 1, i support this. if this is real, i wish them the best of luck <3

@ f1yaps: Has a hot new WAG entered the paddock? Only time will tell

@ yourusername: howdy, cota 🤠 had a great time

tagged: @ f1, @ mattdamon, @ yourbffusername

@ user4: prettiest cowgirl there is 🤎

@ oscarpiastri: It was nice meeting you!

-> @ yourusername: ditto! hoping to buy tickets for las vegas :)

@ user5: Why is Oscar lowkey lurking in the comments... 🤨

-> @ user6: read @ f1gossip's most recent post

@ yn.updates: during an interview for her upcoming movie, "riptide", y/n was asked about the gossip concerning her and mclaren f1 driver oscar piastri. with a big smile, she replied, "he seems like a great guy, but let's be for real. i've met him one time. let's not get too far ahead, please!"

tagged: @ yourusername, @ oscarpiastri, @ f1, & 2 more

comments (1257):

@ user7: That dress is stunning 😩

@ user8: they'd be cute together as a couple ngl. i'd love to see more of them

-> @ user8: but, they deserve their privacy

@ user9: ynoscar is adorable ❤️❤️

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ yourusername: las vegas was a hit! congrats to the papaya boys, p2 and p3

tagged: @ f1, @ mclaren, @ oscarpiastri, @ landonorris

comments (9374):

@ yourbffusername: super cool! miss you xoxo

-> @ yourusername: miss you too, i'll be back home soon 💗

@ user10: Twinklaren tagged!!

@ oscarpiastri: Thanks for coming!

-> @ yourusername: of course, i wouldn't miss it for the world 😁

comments (539):

@ user5: Have any of you seen Oscar's most recent Insta story?

-> @ user11: the way i ran to check and SCREAMED 😳

-> @ user5: IK, they are so evil for soft-launching, they're torturing us. *Sobs*

Oscar's Instagram Story:

comments (7521):

@ yourusername: might not be good at legos but it was still fun being with you!

@ user12: ADORABLE 🥰

@ user8: how does it feel to live my dream 😞

Press Conference Interview Excerpt with Oscar (2025):

Interviewer: Congratulations on your podium in Qatar, Oscar! We noticed a special someone was missing, would you like to tell us more about them?

Oscar (smiling): If the special someone is Y/N Damon, you wouldn't be wrong. She means a lot to me, and I'm very lucky to be with her. Anyways, she sadly wasn't able to make it because she is back in America for the time being. She's about to have her red carpet debut for her movie, "Riptide"! I saw a few clips from it and she does a flawless job.

Interviewer: Is this an acknowledgement of the relationship between the two of you?

Oscar: Yeah.

Interviewer: How long have the two of you been together?

Oscar: A few weeks after COTA.

Interviewer: Well, best of luck to the new couple!

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ oscarpiastri: What a way to end 2025! See you all next year

tagged: @ landonorris, @ f1, @ mclaren, @ yourusername

comments (4898):

@ user13: ahhh omg y/n mention!! 🥹

-> @ user14: They're so cute

-> @ user9: best couple in a long time

@ landonorris: Always glad to be with you, mate

-> @ oscarpiastri: 2026 three-peat is on its way!

@ yourusername: so so proud of you 🥳

-> @ oscarpiastri: Thank you, I'm proud of you too. Can't wait to be with you again 😘

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[just1cefor4ll]

Thanos/Choi Su-bong x fem!reader warning. reader has an ed, swearing, not proof read, mentions of a toxic music industry

A/n. if anything here triggers you and it isnt listed in the warnings, dm me and ill add it in. I do NOT by any means encourage this type of “life style” and if you’re struggling with this, please try and seek out help— you’re not alone!!

You never thought love would be this exhausting. When you met Choi Su-bong—better known as Thanos—it was effortless. The kind of connection that didn’t need explaining. You were just a woman who had a shitty day at work and he was just a guy with a passion for music, and you just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.

That night in Hongdae, after his set, you locked eyes across the bar. You knew who he was, but you didn’t treat him like everyone else did.

“You rap?” you asked, casually swirling your drink.

“I try,” he smirked, leaning against the counter.

You scoffed. “I saw your set. You don’t just try.”

And that was it. That was how it started. Late-night walks through Seoul, deep conversations about music and life, stolen moments in the quiet corners of the city. Love was simple back then.

And for a while, life was good.

The first time the paparazzi caught you together, you didn’t think much of it. His fame had just sky rocketed but maybe people would talk for a bit and they’d move on, right?

You were wrong

Within hours, your face was everywhere. "Who is she?" "She’s not even pretty." "She’s just using him for clout." "She’s ruining his career."

At first, you laughed it off. It was just noise. Strangers behind screens didn’t know you— didn’t know him. But the more you saw it, the harder it became to ignore. They picked apart your looks, your past, your worth. The more you scrolled, the more those words burrowed under your skin.

Still, you smiled through it. You told him it didn’t bother you.

And he believed you.

It started small. Skipping meals here and there, telling yourself you’d eat later. You weren’t even trying to lose weight at first—you just didn’t feel like eating. But then the guilt crept in. Every bite felt heavy, every meal like a reminder that you weren’t enough. You started purging before you even realized it had become a habit. The first time, it was an accident—you ate too much too fast and felt sick, so you ran to the bathroom. But after that, it became… easy. A solution. Eat what you want, then get rid of it. No guilt, no weight gain. A perfect balance.

And no one noticed.

Not even him.

He was always busy—touring, recording, filming. When he came home exhausted, you curled up next to him, pressing your body close so he wouldn’t notice how much smaller you’d gotten. If he asked if you’d eaten, you’d lie. “Yeah, I grabbed something earlier.” If he asked why you were so tired, you’d blame work.

You convinced yourself it wasn’t a problem. You weren’t like those girls in the hospital beds, hooked up to IVs. You could stop whenever you wanted.

But you didn’t stop.

And eventually, he started noticing.

“You’ve been getting sick a lot,” he said one night, brushing your hair back as you sat curled up on the couch. “Are you okay?”

You forced a smile. “It’s just stress.”

“You’re barely eating.”

“I eat.” A lie. A reflex.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Is this because of the shit people say online?” “No,” you said too quickly. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. “I don’t care what they think, you know that, right?” He pulled you into his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield. “None of that matters.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did.

You didn’t remember passing out. It was the next day and Su-bong had left earlier that morning for a meet and greet which you decided to sit out, not feeling like facing his fans at the moment. One second you were going to the bathroom and the next you were hunched over the toilet, spilling your guts out before everything went black.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital bed. The beeping of machines filled the silence, the sterile smell burning your nose. Your throat felt raw, your body weak.

And then you saw him. Sitting in the chair beside you, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.

He looked up when he realized you were awake, and you’d never seen that expression on him before—this mixture of fear, anger, heartbreak.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been yelling or crying. Or both.

You wanted to speak, to tell him you were fine, but nothing came out.

“I—” he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t see it. I should have seen it.” His jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tears burned your eyes. Because you wouldn’t have understood. Because I didn’t want to be your problem. Because I thought I had it under control.

But the truth was, you didn’t know why. And now, it didn’t matter.

Because it was already too late.

Waking up in that hospital bed was one thing. Facing what came next was another.

The first few days were a blur—doctors coming in and out, voices you barely registered, Su-bong staying by your side through all of it. He didn't leave. Not once. Not when they hooked you up to IVs, not when you were too weak to lift your head, not even when you refused to look at him out of shame.

But silence never lasted long with him.

"You scared the shit out of me," he admitted one night, his voice quiet but raw. He was sitting in the chair beside you, fingers laced together as he stared at the floor. "I thought I was gonna lose you."

You swallowed, throat still sore. "I'm sorry." "Don't—" He shook his head, running a hand down his face. "Don't apologize. Just.. tell me what I can do. Tell me how to help."

You didn't know how to answer that.

But help came anyway.

Recovery wasn’t linear. Some days, you convinced yourself you were getting better. You ate the meals they gave you, nodded along when the doctors talked about therapy, let Su-bong hold your hand and tell you things would be okay.

Other days were harder.

Some mornings, you stared at the tray of food in front of you, stomach twisting with guilt before you even took a bite. Some nights, the voices in your head whispered that you didn’t deserve to get better. That you weren’t sick enough. That this was still your control to take back.

But every time you struggled, he was there.

He held you when you broke down. He sat with you through therapy sessions, even when it hurt to talk about things. He learned. Read books. Asked questions. Stopped saying things like “just eat” and started saying “I’m here” instead.

And slowly—painfully—you started to believe him.

But the world outside didn't make it easy.

You weren’t on social media anymore, but you didn’t have to be to know what people were saying. The news was everywhere.

"Thanos’ girlfriend hospitalized for an eating disorder."

"Scandal or sympathy grab?"

"Fans blame toxic industry for shocking health crisis."

Some people supported you. Others weren’t so kind.

And when Su-bong sat down for his first interview since everything happened, it was only a matter of time before someone brought you up.

"So," the interviewer started, her smile more fake then the diamond ring she had on, "there’s been a lot of talk about your personal life lately."

Su-bong tensed. He knew where this was going.

The interviewer continued, undeterred. "Some fans think your relationship has been a distraction for your career. There’s been speculation that—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The entire room went silent.

The interviewer blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." His voice was sharp, his hands clenched into fists on the table. "You think this is some gossip headline? Some scandal to dissect? I almost lost her because of people like you. Because of people who picked her apart, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now, instead of talking about the real issue, you wanna turn this into some bullshit narrative about my career?"

The interviewer fumbled for a response, but he wasn’t done.

"I don’t give a fuck about the music industry if it means losing her. You get that?" His jaw tightened. "She is not a distraction. She is my life."

The interview ended early. The clip went viral within hours.

You saw the video later, sitting on the couch at home, wrapped in one of his hoodies. You expected to feel guilty. Maybe even embarrassed. But instead, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

He sat down next to you, watching carefully. “You okay?” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For fighting for me.” He exhaled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I’ll always fight for you."

Healing wasn’t a straight path. Some days were good. Others weren’t. But you weren’t alone anymore.

And that was enough to keep going.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[lily-jaxk]

MC Twin AU - CALEB'S Spitfire [4]

When you arrive at the airport, just as the text stated, Caleb was there.

He had his hat on, his very familiar (to you at least, but you suppose you had to act like this was new to you) Colonel's attire, and sleek black gloves on his hands. Ignoring the driver as he opened the door for you, you accepted your handbag and marched over to your purple eyed boyfriend.

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to push him into an empty room and tear off his clothes.

But the only thing you could do as you finally got close to him, was place your bag down and slap him across the face.

His cheek grew red from the impact, but he barely made a sound. "Months." You start, gripping the front of his suit to drag him down to your level. "Months have gone by when I thought you were fucking dead. And suddenly you send me a text and I see you're alive!? What the absolute fuck Caleb!?"

Your grip tightens on his suit, and you glare up at him even as he cups your cheeks with his gloved hand, resting his forehead against yours. "I'm sorry." He says, and you glare even harder.

"I'm going to punch you."

"Go ahead. Punch me as much as you want spitfire." He rubs your cheek gently, a soft smile on his face. "I'm just glad you're ok and here, with me."

"Stop agreeing with me and being so sappy you bastard!" You snap, struggling in his hold as he drags you into a hug. "Ugh! Lemme go!"

He chuckled softly, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "You can yell at me all you want spitfire, but not here. As much as I want you to, I am still the Colonel, and many eyes are still watching me."

You huff again but relax, realizing he was right. This wasn't the time nor place to beat him up. "Whatever. There better be food on the plane."

"Only the best for you."

When you arrive at his place, you drop your bag on his couch and move to where you assumed his kitchen was, using your limited understanding of playing his Myths and Cards in the game to help guide you. "I'm still mad at you." you begin, watching as the cabinet opens and a glass flies into your hand. You turn around to see a bottle of orange juice open by itself, then tilt as the liquid poured into your cup. Stupid Caleb and his stupid Evol and his stupid understanding of what you wanted. How can you be mad at him when he does cute shit like this!?

"So." You turn around to face him, gulping down your drink so you can distract your mind. "Wanna explain how you're alive!?" You slam the cup down on the counter table, anger making your blood boil. You don't know why you were so angry, you knew he was alive. you knew he was fine. Still. . . . still . . . . what if you dating him made things worse? What if he actually got hurt!?

Tears suddenly dripped out of your eyes as you helplessly stared at him. "You . . . you died Caleb! You died and you left me behind! What is wrong with you!?"

"I had to act like I was semi-ok in front of MC! She was devastated! She lost her best friend, and I lost my boyfriend, yet here you are fucking alive!?"

You close your eyes as you try and wipe your tears away, not noticing him walking towards you until you feel his arms wrap around you. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, rubbing your back gently as you continued to cry. "I can't tell you why I left, because it's related to. . . . well a lot of things, but I want you to know, that each time I closed my eyes, each time I woke up, each time I went down to the Deepspace Tunnel, you were on my mind spitfire." He kisses your head, breathing in deeply. "I've missed you so much spitfire, and this time I promise nothing, and I mean nothing will drive us apart again."

"I will never let you go."

You sniffled and shoved your face deeper into his chest, choosing to remain silent in the meantime as you continued to sob. After a few minutes though, a small sigh escapes your lips. "If you pull a stunt like this again, I will kill you myself."

A fond chuckle leaves his lips, and he pushes you away gently so he can cup your cheeks. "Noted," he murmured, then pressed his lips against yours, your first kiss after months of being apart.

When you woke up the next day, it was to the smell of pancakes. Grumbling under your breath, you pick up your shirt and place it on, waddling over to the kitchen to see Caleb by the stove pouring more batter into the frying pan, a plate of perfectly cooked pancakes on the side. You pick up the fork and begin to dig in, humming at the taste. "Good to know that your dying didn't take away your skill of cooking."

"I practiced extra harder for you spitfire." Caleb leaned towards you to press a small kiss on your cheek. "Eat up, you're going to need all the energy you can get."

"Yeah yeah..." you mumble, shoving more food in your mouth. "Oh hey, where's my phone? It should have woken me up with my alarm."

Caleb turns back to the stove. "I'll get you a new one."

You pause your chewing, quickly swallowing it so you can talk clearly. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm keeping your phone hostage."

"Why?"

He turns his head to give you a gentle smile, though his eyes have darkened. "You don't need that phone anymore, trust me, spitfire."

Ok, what the fuck?!

Taglist! - @sleepydang @junrui @animecrazy76 @reni502 @yjhcheri @sanstype @smoophie @young-adult-summer @l4venderia

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

[daylighted]

the girl behind the wheel . . . dean winchester & reader !

summary. the last thing dean expected was for his car to disappear & in its place, you to be left. he also never expected to have to worry, still, about you getting stolen. warnings. men r pigs!! sequel to this ask !

it's not like you asked to be made into a human or anything. dean seemed to operate on that idea, though, that this was all your choice. he looked at you with pure grief in his eyes, and something that seemed much more akin to exasperation than the unwilling reluctance you thought he was beginning to fall into.

"i have to get a new car." he's openly, dramatically, pouting.

you shrug. his jacket has now become your jacket, because shoplifting clothes for you meant snatching the cheap shit in the back of the store that people wouldn't realize were missing until it was too late, which left you in summery clothes in the dead of winter.

"that's all you have to say for yourself?"

dean is looking at you with that quizzical stare he gets, like he expects you to have some sort of answer for why you were like this. you didn't know. you just got here.

"steal one." you look around the parking lot of the little strip mall he'd taxi'ed you both to, and nod toward a big black truck towering above the other cars. "that one."

dean follows the direction of your finger and snorts. "no way in hell. that guy's gonna notice immediately that that thing is missing."

just like how dean noticed that you were missing, when the tides shifted or the moon phased at a certain time, and suddenly you were a girl by a light pole and not a car parked under the streetlight. that was understandable.

dean runs a hand over his face, turning his back to you again in that way that didn't fully seem to indict you, but it didn't really make you feel like an innocent party in this.

you could help. of course you could help. dean wanted a car, that car was the scariest in the area, he couldn't take that one with force, so...

the front windshield has "DEER HUNTIN" sprawled into the glass in an ugly, abrasive font. dean was a hunter. he wore lots of layers, even when he'd be driving in the dead of summer. you just needed to find a guy in lots of layers.

so you disappear, ducking into one of the little businesses in the mall with hunting & fishing goods on the big sign out front. everyone in there sort of looks the same, the whole place smells a little like oil and a lot like dirt and hay, and you think that you've made a poor judgement call until you find him.

big guy, as big as the truck in the parking lot. camouflage hat and jacket. dirt all over his jeans. a t-shirt beneath the jacket that says i like my girls like i like my bucks: big and horny. he's your guy. he's so your guy.

"hi, sir," you say, trying to puff out your chest in that way that dean hates but makes you feel a little bit taller and on his level. the guy looks over at you in a way that dean also does, sometimes, but he's much more obvious about it than dean is. "is that yours?"

you point to the truck in the parking lot.

the guy puffs his chest up, too, and now you really don't know why dean hates it, when it just seems to be a dude thing. "it sure is, pretty thing," he drawls, putting the box of ammo back on the shelf, "you want a ride in it?"

"no thank you." you hold out your hand instead. "can i have the keys?"

he laughs. your face visibly falls, and he laughs a little harder. "won't go for a ride with me but expects me to fork over my keys. i'll be damned. what's your name?"

"baby."

"baby," he doesn't say it like dean does, with awe and reverence and sentiment. he says it like it tastes filthy in his mouth. "tell you what. go on a little ride with me, and i'll let you take it for a spin."

"no thank you." how many times did a girl have to tell a man no? seriously. "i just want the keys."

the door to the shop dings, the echo of the bell ricocheting around the spacious area. "baby?" dean's voice. you are so helpless to the way that you light up at the sound of it. "baby, you better—"

he cuts himself off, his eyes landing directly on you. you can always tell when dean's looking at you. there's something physical and innate in the way his gaze rests like its own sort of blanket over your skin.

the guy behind you nods toward dean. "that your boyfriend?"

"no. that's my driver."

you could not possibly be more clear, but the guy's face twists up. "so why the hell do you need my keys?"

dean is at your side now, a hand on your hip and a grimace on his face. he tends to wear that look a lot around you, now, even though you still catch glimpses of the fondness when he thinks you're not looking.

"she doesn't." dean pulls you a little more into his side, and you grin. he's always so warm. "sorry 'bout that."

"keep your girl leashed, alright?" the guy scoffs, turning back to the shelves full of ammo boxes. "she's tryin' to get into trouble she can't handle."

you could handle a lot of things. you'd been crashed a few times. you'd been long overdue of an oil change. you were pretty sure that dean was conceived in you, which was an entirely other sort of thing you didn't even want to think about. were doing pretty well without thinking on it, thank you. you could handle things, and it wasn't fair that this stranger thought he knew you based on one interaction that you were certain was going just fine.

dean seems to sense that you're about to dig a deeper hole for yourself, and so he starts to tug you away. "yeah, yeah, she's leashed," dean grumbles, his teeth gritted together. he doesn't like the guy either, it seems.

you barely take a step away before dean's turning to you again with that look of unadulterated exasperation. again. "what the hell was all that?"

"you said we couldn't steal it because he'd know." like, did dean just... forget that conversation in a two minute span, or what? "so i went to ask him for the keys."

dean's lips flatten. he's really, seriously trying to keep the blank expression but the twitch of his dimples gives away his amusement. "no."

"yes." you reach into dean's jacket pocket over your shoulders and hold out the keys. "got them, too."

"he gave them over?"

you smile. and that's how you know that dean was yours and you were his, and that even if he was getting premature gray hairs from you, he still adored you. "no. i was just letting him know i was taking it. i wasn't really asking."

dean laughs this time. well and truly laughs, holding the shop's door open for you. "you are somethin' else."

"i'm helping," you correct, looking down at the key fob in your fingers. you press the unlock button, but the truck's headlights don't light up. it sits as idle as ever.

the car next to it, a model close to yours but not quite as well taken care of, beeps in acknowledgement.

you pass the keys over to dean, practically skipping toward the impala in utter glee. the cards always worked in your favor, didn't they? you'd been with the winchesters for three generations, passed down like an heirloom, but this was the one that loved you the most, and now you could finally show it.

"scratch that, baby," dean says as he catches up to you, catching you around the waist to drag you in for a kiss on the temple, "you're a goddamn godsent."

yes. you definitely were.

notes. forgot i wrote the first part to this, and then this came into my head, and it made me giggle so i had to write it. pls enjoy

tags. @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @figthoughts @theosaurous @stereotypicalbarbie @whyyouegg @eepwtf @rositaslabyrinth @rubyvhs @aileenunfiltered @abox-of-rocks @sunsbaby @bluemerakis @jollyhunter @misatxox @sunsettsam @angelblqde @bombarda-babe @unfortunate-brat @funkycoloured @chevroletdean @chiierful @cowboysandcigarettes @voidsuites @bitchykittenconnoisseur @beausling @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @hyacinnths @couturewinx @blushpinkdoll @mccartneyqp @svbnra

[batmanfruitloops]

What if a multi-verse type thing were to happen how would the characters react to variants of each other?

Like Batman meeting a villain version of joker?

And what if Jo were to met a version of Eddie like arkham games riddler or zero year riddler how would that play out? What would his reaction be? Or if he were to met paul dano’s riddler how would that go?

And to switch it if Eddie were to met a variant of Jo like for arkham games Jo would he be terrified of him?

how would batman react to his arkham game counterpart or Eddie react to his?

Sorry i’m aware this is weird and silly I just thought of this and was curious about what the reactions would be to a scenario like this and it could be any versions of the characters I was just saying ones for examples.

(Also apologies if there are typos I’m not the best with English)

To me, I feel that Batman would be thrown off meeting BTAS Joker, since he doesn't immediately seem dangerous, and he's used to his Joker just being fun and a trickster, but not malicious. BTAS Joker would be excited by meeting a version of the Batman who's nicer to him, although I ultimately see Batman apprehending Joker and turning him over to the police.

With Arkham Joker, I don't think Batman would need to pause to consider if he was a good version. Unfortunately for Batman, this version of the Joker has been at this for a lot longer than he has, so I imagine he'd struggle to really fight him at all, leading to Joker just toying with him.

I think there are very few Riddlers our Jonathan would tolerate, much less like at all. Arkhamverse, especially Arkham Knight Riddler he could even stand for him to open his mouth. Maybe he could tolerate Orgins more since it was before his mind fell apart. Otherwise, he just couldn't deal with him for too long. Though I think if he needed to work with him for whatever reason he could as long as he duct taped his mouth.

I don't know much about Zero Year Riddler, but from what I understand the term "douchebag" describes him quite well. Jonathan would hate his guts. I think Zero Year would remind him too much of people in his past.

I don't feel like I got enough information from The Batman 2022 about the Riddler to really understand his personality. I haven't read the comics associated with him so it's a little harder to say how Jonathan would react. I don't think he'd necessarily hate him but he wouldn't like him. He'd rather not want to get involved with him.

Arkham Knight Scarecrow is a master of manipulation, based on the tape where he convinces Edward to work with him I imagine he could do something similar with our Ed. Ed I think would be terrified of him but that's likely more ammunition for AK Jonathan to manipulate him with. He couldn't really stand a chance against him. Though Ed has a very strong moral compass it's easily warped.

I can't imagine most Riddlers liking each other either. Even if they get along it's likely they'd still fight. I imagine both Eds would think the other is a moron and would fight over who's smarter than the other.

With any version of Batman meeting himself I have two main thoughts: one, they'd be able to work really well together because they think the same way, and two: they'd also hate being around another version of themselves, considering the level of self-loathing that they feel. Being able to see themselves face to face would only amplify that, especially with our Batman and Arkham Batman, since ours is fresh and more hopeful, while the other is bitter, more aggressive, and ready to end his own life. Not a great mix,

-Fluffy and Sarsee

[women-in-ssports]

Ch 4 Alumni Weekend

KK knocked on Paige’s hotel suite door with her foot, her hands full of alcohol bottles. Paige answered, her confusion clear at the sight of her.

“Hangout’s in your suite,” KK said, stepping into the room and walking past Paige into the main part of the suite.

“Why my room?” Paige asked, grabbing the bottles from the hallway and bringing them inside with her.

“Do you even have to ask?” KK replied, gesturing to the spaciousness of the suite.

Paige made an awkward laugh. “I know, it’s a little out there, but Melody likes nice hotel rooms, so I splurged.”

“Hey, I’m not judging,” KK said, holding her hands up. “Just saying.”

Just then, a knock came at the door.

“I got it,” KK said, moving toward the door. “It’s probably Ice.”

Paige followed her toward the door. It was still slightly propped open with one of the boxes they hadn’t grabbed from the hallway yet. As they heard voices outside, both paused.

“Whose room is this? Because I know it’s not yours,” Azzi’s voice said in hushed tones.

“It’s Paige’s,” Ice replied nonchalantly, reaching to push the door open and walk in.

“Paige!” Azzi said, her voice a little louder. “You could’ve warned me.”

“Why?” Ice asked, unbothered.

“Well, because I’m not sure her girlfriend’s going to want me hanging out in their hotel room,” Azzi replied with a shrug.

KK and Paige exchanged an awkward glance.

Just then, Melody walked out of the bedroom, catching their attention. “That’s a lot of alcohol,” she said, laughing.

Azzi and Ice went quiet as Melody’s voice reached them. Azzi controlled her smile and walked into the suite, Ice following behind her.

At the sight of Azzi, Melody’s smile faltered, though she quickly masked it.

“Hi, Melody. Hi, KK. Hi, Paige,” Azzi greeted, setting down the items she was carrying.

“Hi,” Melody replied, slipping her arm around Paige’s waist in a silent, subtle claim that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

Just then, Azzi’s phone rang. “Nika,” she said to the group before stepping aside to answer it.

As she spoke, she glanced back toward the group. “Yeah, noodles and company and pizza,” Azzi said with a grin.

Paige smiled to herself. She knew Azzi had only added “Noodles & Company” to the food options tonight because of her—a small but sweet gesture that made her feel a little special.

“Melody, are you joining us tonight?” Ice asked, glancing between the two.

“No, she has work to catch up on,” Paige replied easily, at the same time Melody answered, “Yes.”

Paige looked confused. “I thought you had work?”

Melody recovered quickly, flashing a smile. “I finished, and besides, I want to get to know your friends a little better. We only ever see them when you play against them in season.”

LATER THAT NIGHT

Aubrey was trying to gather everyone in the living room, but her efforts were futile. Caroline, ever the mom of the group, stood up and simply beckoned for everyone. Without a word, they gathered.

“So, how are we doing this?” Nika asked, plopping down next to Ice and Azzi.

Lou, slipping between Aaliyah and Jana, suggested, “How about we go around and share our best memory?”

“Nah, that’s boring,” Ice said, giving KK a pointed look.

KK, getting the hint, grinned. “Yeah, boring. How about we spice things up a little?”

“Like what Aaliyah said?” Nika asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Spin the bottle!” Jana chimed in, hands up in excitement.

“I know you wanna kiss me, but you can’t, Jana,” Paige teased, laughing as Melody scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

From the stories I’ve heard, I’d rather kiss Azzi,” Jana replied, laughing.

This got a chuckle from everyone, especially when Amari chimed in, mocking Paige’s drunken college days. “It’s like kissing the stars,” she said, imitating Paige’s voice, causing everyone to laugh harder.

“No, no,” Aaliyah added, shaking her head. “You don’t get it. Kissing her is magical.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Azzi’s face turned bright red, though she couldn’t help but laugh along.

Paige tried to keep laughing, but her smile faltered when Melody’s nails dug into her arm, clearly uncomfortable with everyone talking about her current girlfriend’s ex.

“Okay, okay, whatever,” Paige said quickly, trying to shift the conversation. “What do you have in mind, KK?” she asked, turning to her.

“Truth or drink,” KK said with a smirk. “No tap outs. We don’t have to be anywhere until 2 p.m., so you’re all trapped until you spill your secrets, spill your guts or knock out.”

The room went silent.

“Damn, we haven’t done this since Nika kissed Caroline,” Lou said, breaking the silence.

“What?!” came the collective scream from the crowd.

“Lou!” Caroline shouted, hitting her. “Shut up!”

“No, no, tell us!” KK insisted, grinning.

“Nah, you shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” Nika said with a playful shrug.

The first round of questions was easy, mostly harmless fun. Everyone took turns sharing silly secrets or daring truths, and the laughter flowed freely. But then, someone asked Azzi a question that immediately made the mood shift.

“So, Azzi,” someone teased, leaning forward with a grin. “Where exactly did you go the night before the Final Four game in 2025?”

Azzi reached for her drink without missing a beat and downed it in one go. The room watched in a mixture of anticipation and curiosity as she set the glass down, trying to mask the tension that had suddenly filled the air.

TIME JUMP A FEW HOURS

Melody choked on her drink, her eyes wide in disbelief. Did this girl just say her biggest regret was breaking up with her current girlfriend?

Before Melody could fully process what had just happened, Paige added to the question, her voice more serious than before. “Why is that your biggest regret, Azzi?”

Caroline, seeing how drunk Azzi was—well, only a little more than her—tried to help her out and shift the conversation to something safer. “How about a movie, till we all fall asleep?”

“I agree,” Ice said, feeling way too drunk to keep talking.

But Azzi wasn’t finished. She looked at Paige, her eyes sharp despite the haze of alcohol. “Do you want to know?” she asked, her tone cutting through the noise in the room. “Do you really want to know? Because when I told you I needed time for myself and wanted to try again, you came at me like you weren’t already talking to someone.”

Paige froze, her heart skipping a beat. Melody’s face went pale, and the room seemed to hold its breath.

Azzi’s words didn’t quite make sense to anyone except Paige, who understood exactly what she meant—Azzi was talking about three different times in their complicated history.

Before the tension could settle in the room, KK leaned over, grabbed the trash can, and started puking. The sound of it was enough to put a hard end to the evening.

Caroline, with a mix of concern and exhaustion, shuffled KK to the bathroom, then guided her to the sofa, where she could rest. Caroline and Nika moved to take the bed, while the rest of the girls made do with pillows and blankets on the floor.

Paige and Melody silently retreated to their room, exhaustion weighing heavily on both of them. They didn’t speak as they settled into bed, the events of the night lingering in the silence.

The next morning

Let’s just say, thank goodness they drank as much as they did. When Paige woke up, she expected Melody to be pissed, but to her surprise, Melody seemed just as lost as everyone else. Not remembering anything past 10 p.m., and judging by the state of the living room, neither did anyone else.

Paige waived her way out of her room, where heads were still buried in pillows, and a quiet groan echoed from someone who had clearly slept on the floor. She moved toward the kitchen, intent on starting the hangover remedies she knew were necessary. But of course, Azzi was already there.

Azzi looked up from where she was fussing with a coffee pot. “Hey, P. Want some coffee?”

“Please,” Paige replied, grateful for the offer as she took the cup.

Azzi studied her quietly for a second, trying to gauge the mood. If she’s being this normal, she probably doesn’t remember anything from last night either, Azzi thought, a slight edge of relief mixing with the confusion. Though, if she were honest, she could only recall bits and pieces herself.

SCRIMMAGE

The crowd at Gampel Pavilion was buzzing with excitement, but this wasn’t your typical UConn women’s basketball game. Instead, it was an alumni showdown, where former Huskies greats—many now retired from the WNBA—were back on the court, but this time, with a more relaxed vibe. Azzi Fudd and Paige Bueckers, two of the most iconic players in UConn history, had taken on the roles of coaches for the day. Their squads were stacked with alumni, some of whom hadn’t played together in years, but all of them clearly enjoying the opportunity to reconnect.

The game wasn’t about high-stakes competition, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of pride on the line. Fudd’s team, with legends like Swin Cash, Asjha Jones, and Tamika Williams, played with a loose, fast-paced style—nothing too intense, but still full of sharp passes and quick shots. On the other side, Bueckers’ squad, featuring Kara Wolters, Nykesha Sales, and Barbara Turner, executed a more controlled offense, with occasional bursts of flair that had the crowd laughing and cheering. The alumni weren’t exactly playing at 100%, but it was clear they hadn’t forgotten how to play the game. Everyone was at about 70-85%, just enough to make it fun, but not enough to leave anyone exhausted.

From the sideline, Fudd and Bueckers exchanged friendly jabs, often shouting out instructions to their players, though neither seemed all that concerned about strategy.

“Come on, Swin! You used to hit those in your sleep!” Fudd shouted, watching as Cash missed an open three-pointer. Cash just shrugged and grinned, a playful smirk on her face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just making it interesting,” Cash replied, jogging back on defense. “You’re not gonna win this one so easily.”

Bueckers laughed from across the court. “I told you, Azzi, I’ve got my team’s chemistry down. We’re the well-oiled machine today,” she called, giving Fudd a wink.

“Chemistry?” Fudd shot back. “You mean we’re just waiting for Nykesha to pull something out of her hat.” She gestured toward Sales, who had just hit a wild turnaround jumper that made everyone in the gym stop and applaud.

The game proceeded in the same lighthearted spirit, with both teams exchanging points in a friendly back-and-forth. At one point, Asjha Jones attempted a no-look pass to Swin Cash, only for the ball to sail out of bounds.

“I swear, I could’ve made that pass in my sleep,” Jones called out, hands on her hips.

“You’ve still got it, Asjha,” Bueckers replied with a smile, though it was clear both teams were giving each other the occasional hard time. The energy was more about reliving memories than proving anything, but that didn’t mean a few competitive sparks didn’t fly.

The game hit a slight hiccup when, on a fast break, one of Paige’s players—who hadn’t exactly given up her old competitive fire—slammed into one of the refs, Nika Muhl, who was doing her best to keep control of the game.

“Come on, Nika! That’s clearly a foul!” Bueckers shouted, hands on her hips.

Muhl, who had been an absolute force for UConn in her time, shot back with a smirk, “Paige, if I wanted to call fouls, I’d have to stop the game every other play. Let it go!”

Bueckers, not one to back down, planted her feet and shot a defiant look. “You know I’m right!”

Just then, Caroline Ducharme, the other referee, came over and added with a teasing tone, “Paige, you keep this up and I’ll have to toss you out of the game, and we both know you don’t want that.”

“I’m just asking for fair treatment!” Paige protested, crossing her arms.

“Fair treatment?” Azzi called from the sidelines, laughing. “Paige, you are the treatment. I think we’ve got enough attention on you for now.”

The game continued after that little interruption, but the playful tension between Fudd and Bueckers persisted. They kept chatting back and forth as their teams moved up and down the court, both coaches making occasional gestures to calm things down or hype things up.

At one point, Tamika Williams found herself in a fast-break situation and passed up an open layup to swing it out to Swin Cash at the three-point line. “I had that one, T,” Williams laughed, though it was clear she wasn’t worried about the missed opportunity.

“All good, we’re just warming up,” Cash replied, taking the shot, which she missed, but it didn’t matter much. The game was more about fun than scoring anyway.

As the clock ticked down toward the final minutes, it became clear that this wasn’t just a game—it was a celebration of the history and legacy of UConn women’s basketball. Fudd and Bueckers shared a few final words of encouragement for their teams, neither one willing to fully concede victory.

“I guess we’ll call it a tie for now,” Fudd said, grinning. “But next time, Paige, I’m taking you down.”

Paige shot her a playful glare. “We’ll see about that. But for now, I’ll let you have this one.”

Nika Muhl and Caroline Ducharme exchanged knowing glances, both clearly happy to keep the peace without having to kick anyone out, despite Bueckers’ brief “incident.” The crowd erupted into applause as the game wrapped up—what had started as a fun alumni game had turned into a full-fledged celebration of UConn’s incredible legacy, with both coaches making it clear that, their love for the game—and for each other—would never fade.

AFTER THE GAME

After the game, the crowd was beginning to clear out, but Azzi and Paige lingered near the court, catching their breath and savoring the last few moments of a game that had been all about nostalgia and fun. But there was something else hanging in the air, something unspoken between them.

Azzi, always the one to break the tension, caught Paige by the hand, pulling her gently into a hug. “It was great seeing you, P,” Azzi said, her voice warm, her dimpled smile spreading across her face as she pulled back, her eyes lingering on Paige’s face. It was a simple moment, but there was so much history between them in that one gesture.

Paige, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, simply nodded in return. She stood there for a second, unsure of what to say, her heart racing slightly. The familiar pull between them was still there, even after everything—though they had both moved on in different ways. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. But then Paige felt the weight of the silence and tried to push through it.

Should I say something about last night? Paige thought, her mind racing. What if Azzi doesn’t even remember? What if she’s already moved on? The thought made her stomach tighten. What if it would make everything even more awkward between them?

Azzi, still holding Paige’s gaze, waited for her to speak, but Paige couldn’t find the words. Just as the silence began to stretch uncomfortably, Azzi finally broke it.

“You and Melody seem really good together,” Azzi said, her tone casual but with an underlying sincerity.

The mention of Paige’s girlfriend, Melody, snapped Paige back to reality. For a moment, she had completely forgotten about the life she had built since then. The thought of her and Melody, the way things had felt so right between them, grounded her. She exhaled sharply, fighting the mix of emotions that hit her all at once.

“Thanks,” Paige said, her voice soft but short, the words feeling heavier than she intended. She didn’t know why, but her chest tightened, and she pulled away from Azzi slightly, as though she needed space to breathe.

Before Azzi could say anything else, Paige did something she hadn’t expected herself to do. She pulled Azzi into another hug, this one unexpected and longer, wrapping her arms around her tightly. “I miss you, Azzi,” she whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

Azzi froze, caught off guard once again by the sudden shift in Paige’s energy. She could feel the weight of those words, the unsaid part of them—the ache of a past that neither of them had fully moved on from. But Paige was already pulling away, and as quickly as the embrace had happened, it ended.

Paige didn’t look back as she turned to walk away, her footsteps echoing in the quiet gym. Azzi stayed rooted to the spot, watching her go. The silence stretched between them, filled with everything they never said and everything they never would. They had their separate lives now—Azzi, with her focus on her future, and Paige, with Melody and the life she had built away from the past they’d shared. Azzi didn’t try to stop her; she simply watched as Paige disappeared into the distance.

And for a moment, Azzi was left standing alone, caught between the memories of what once was and the reality of the present.

Neither Azzi nor Paige noticed the figure standing quietly by the side of the court, watching the exchange unfold between them. Melody, Paige’s girlfriend, had been there the entire time, hidden in the shadows, just out of sight. She hadn’t come to the game to make her presence known—she knew it was a special moment for Paige, and she didn’t want to intrude. But when the hug between Paige and Azzi happened, something shifted in the air, something palpable that Melody couldn’t ignore.

It wasn’t jealousy that churned in Melody’s stomach. It wasn’t even possessiveness. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name. Watching Paige and Azzi, she could feel the weight of their history, the undeniable connection that pulsed between them. It was like witnessing a living thing, something you read about in books or see in movies but never quite believed was real. Their bond was magnetic, an energy that neither of them seemed to be able to shake off, no matter how much time had passed.

Melody had always known there was something special about the way Paige and Azzi interacted. It was unspoken, but it was there—an old familiarity, a comfort that came from shared experiences and deep, unresolved feelings. They’d been teammates, friends, and something more in another life. She could see it in the way they moved around each other, the subtle glances, the lingering touches, and the unspoken understanding that ran deeper than just basketball.

Melody loved Paige. She truly did. There was no doubt about that. Paige had become her person, the one who made her laugh, who made her feel seen in ways no one else ever had. But as she stood there, watching the exchange between the two former Huskies, Melody couldn’t help but wonder if she was settling for something less than what Paige and Azzi had.

She didn’t want to feel this way—she didn’t want to doubt what she had with Paige. But in that moment, with Paige walking away from Azzi and heading back to her life, Melody felt a pang of uncertainty. She couldn’t deny that there was a part of her, deep down, that had always known Paige and Azzi shared something that transcended time, something more than the fleeting connections that often came and went in life.

Was she really going to stay? Melody asked herself, her gaze following Paige’s retreating figure. Was she really going to accept this, knowing that anyone with eyes could see that Paige and Azzi were written in the stars? The thought lingered in her mind, unresolved, as she quietly turned away from the court, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

Melody wasn’t the type to make rash decisions, but as she left the gym, her heart felt a little heavier. She loved Paige, but love, as she now understood it, wasn’t always enough. Sometimes, even love had to step aside for what was meant to be—what had always been.

SEEING MELDOY

Paige was almost out of the gym, her thoughts still tangled in the moments with Azzi, when she spotted Melody standing just by the door, waiting for her. Melody’s posture was a little stiffer than usual, her gaze distant as she stared toward the court, though she quickly snapped out of it when she noticed Paige approaching.

“Ready to go home, baby?” Paige asked, her voice light, trying to shake off the strange heaviness that lingered from her encounter with Azzi. She smiled, eager to get back to their routine, to the familiarity of home—anything to put the weight of the day behind her.

Melody hesitated, a brief pause before she nodded, but it wasn’t the kind of nod Paige was used to. There was something in the way Melody lingered, a subtle tension in her body, as though she were somewhere else, her mind still processing what she had just witnessed between Paige and Azzi. The way they had stood so close, the brief but intense hug, the unsaid things between them—it was all still fresh in Melody’s mind.

“Yeah, let’s go home,” Melody replied, her voice quieter than usual. Her eyes flickered back toward the gym, where the echoes of the game still seemed to hang in the air. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something that neither of them had yet acknowledged, but both of them felt.

Paige didn’t pick up on the hesitation. She just smiled, relieved to be with Melody, and took her hand. “I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat on the way.”

But Melody didn’t move right away. She stood there for a second longer, still processing. What did I just watch? she thought. What does it mean?

“Melody?” Paige’s voice broke through her thoughts. She looked at Paige now, trying to mask the uncertainty in her eyes. “What’s going on? You okay?”

Melody forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, just… tired, I guess.”

Paige didn’t push. They left the gym together in silence, but the quiet between them wasn’t comfortable—it felt like a space that had been stretched too thin, like the air around them had become just a little bit heavier. Melody needed time to understand what she was feeling, to process everything she had seen. Her mind was racing with the implications of the day, of Azzi and Paige, and where she fit into all of it.

As they got into the car, the hum of the engine filled the space between them. Paige reached for the radio, but Melody put a hand on hers, stopping her.

“Maybe just… no music tonight,” Melody said softly. “I just need some quiet.”

Paige nodded, giving her the space she needed. But as they drove, the silence between them felt different now. It wasn’t just about the drive home—it was about everything that was left unspoken. Melody wasn’t sure what would happen next, but she knew she needed time. Time to think, time to understand whether the life she was building with Paige was enough, or if something had already shifted beyond repair.

BACK TO AZZI

Azzi felt the light touch of footsteps behind her as she stepped away from the gym doors, the cool evening air brushing against her face. She turned, half-expecting another fan or maybe one of the old teammates to come say goodbye, but instead, it was Rachel—the honey-blonde from the bar a few nights ago. Rachel was wearing a playful smile, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Some coaching out there,” Rachel said teasingly, as she walked closer, her tone light and full of humor.

Azzi let out a laugh, the tension of the game finally dissipating. “Thanks,” she replied, trying to keep the mood casual, though part of her was still caught up in the earlier moments with Paige. She pushed those thoughts aside—this was about having fun. Nothing more.

Rachel didn’t waste any time. “So, about that date,” she said, taking a tentative step toward Azzi, her voice now soft, but her intent clear. “You still up for it?”

Azzi’s mind immediately flashed back to the night she’d spent talking with Rachel—casual, fun, and free of any real expectations. But as much as she tried to stay present, she couldn’t ignore the ghost of Paige that lingered just beneath the surface. Snap out of it, Azzi told herself. Paige had moved on. She had a life with Melody, and Azzi couldn’t afford to keep clinging to memories that no longer fit.

“Well,” Azzi started, trying to keep her tone light, “there aren’t many options in Storrs…” she trailed off, half-joking, but Rachel wasn’t buying it.

“I can think of a few,” Rachel replied smoothly, her voice easy and confident. “Wanna try?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “Sure,” she said, letting herself relax just a bit more. The night was still young, and maybe she could have fun. Maybe it was time to stop thinking about the past and enjoy the present. Rachel grabbed her hand and led her toward the gym’s exit, where she guided Azzi to the passenger seat of her car before slipping behind the wheel.

As the car started up and the headlights flickered on, Azzi tried to push the thoughts of Paige out of her head. It was hard, but she couldn’t let herself get stuck in that space anymore. She needed to move forward, one way or another.

Paige POV leaving the gym

Meanwhile, Paige had just finished helping Melody into their car, her mind still tangled in the web of emotions from the game. The air between them had felt charged, and though Melody hadn’t said much, Paige could tell something was off. She had no idea what it was, but it was like a shadow looming over their quiet drive.

As Paige slid into the driver’s seat, she glanced out of the corner of her eye, and that’s when she saw them. Azzi and Rachel walking out of the gym, Rachel’s hand confidently holding Azzi’s, guiding her toward the car. Paige’s heart sank, a sharp pang of jealousy catching her off guard. She swallowed hard, trying to push the feeling away.

You have no right to feel this way, she told herself. You’re with Melody. You’ve moved on. And yet, there was something about the sight of Azzi’s hand in Rachel’s that made her stomach twist. It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t even her place to care anymore. But it did.

For a split second, Paige couldn’t help but imagine what it might have been like if it had been her holding Azzi’s hand. She quickly shook the thought away, but it clung to her like a weight, like a secret she didn’t want to admit. The truth was, seeing Azzi with someone else—it hurt. Even after everything, even with Melody right there beside her, the feeling was still raw.

Azzi’s hands, Paige thought, should be in mine. She caught herself, realizing just how ridiculous that thought sounded. This isn’t about Azzi anymore, she reminded herself. You’ve got Melody. You’re moving forward.

But as the car doors closed, and the engine hummed to life, Paige’s gaze lingered on Azzi and Rachel for a moment longer, her heart heavy in a way she couldn’t quite explain. She reached for the radio to drown out her thoughts, but Melody stopped her. Asking for no music to clear her head. Paige agreed and pulled out of the parking lot.

[diminuel]

I have so many questions about Grumpy, especially the fact that he and Luffy are so close in age and so dramatically different in personality. How do he and Luffy get along? Does he grow up alongside ASL and if so how does that work? And when he announces he wants to be a Marine, how do his brothers react? I know that they are raised significantly less feral than in canon but I’m still picturing Ace, Sabo and Luffy running off into the wilderness with their pipes and Crocodile asking, “Aren’t you going to go play with your brothers?” and Grumpy not even looking up from his book and going, “Not even if you paid me.”

I just love him so much (And mini-Mingo too but I think you said she was a few years younger than Grumpy + Luffy so I'm imagining that Ace and Sabo were already off pirating/revolutionary-ing by the time she was old enough to join their hijinx)

All very good questions but I don't really know the answers either because surely the addition of other children is going to affect the dynamic. For example, Ace finds himself the fierce guardian of not only Luffy (who just showers him in constant sweet baby affection and a lot of crying) but also a second little brother. One that is a lot more reserved, doesn't offer smiles quite as willingly but at least he cries less than Luffy! Ace probably spends a lot of time with Luffy to give his parents a bit of time to look after the Grumpy. Once Luffy can walk, they're off in the village, at the beach. Just constantly on adventures.

And they will include Grumpy as soon as he's a bit older. I think there's just no way around being a bit feral if you're a Monkey D, with parents who don't really know what a normal childhood is.

And I think Luffy is getting a lot of pointers from Ace (and Sabo) about what a solemn duty it is to be a big brother. I think Luffy would just pull Grumpy along to play and fight and hunt wild animals.

It would probably also be one of the main ASL activities and competition to get a smile out of their grumpy little brother. Which isn't toooooo hard because I think he can be rather cheerful as well, especially as a child. He's just a lot more quiet and thoughtful than Luffy is, not as interested in beating each other up but the wildness of the D.clan lineage just has to find an outlet somehow! He and Dragon can sit at a desk for hours, just quietly reading and working. Sabo likes to read too but if you give him the choice between reading and beating something or someone up with a pipe, he's gonna choose the latter.

(I'm a bit amused about how Shanks might react when there are two kids in Makino's bar because she's probably watching the kids and Luffy drags Grumpy everywhere. And if we go with the idea that Shanks knows Dragon, the kid's quiet way of handling things would be very familiar, but surely that's just a coincidence.)

The events of Grey Terminal are probably going to affect all of the boys differently, setting them off on their own trajectories towards becoming pirates, a revolutionary and, well, a marine. A lot of pirates are rough and cruel after all and will hurt those who are defenseless. Grumpy wants to help and there are just not a lot of ways of doing it.

I don't think Grumpy will tell anyone about what he wants to do, especially not Grandpa Garp because he'd just become more intense, maybe forcing him to train even harder. And they also all have different things to worry about: the aftermath of Grey Terminal as well as the birth of Mini Mingo not long after mean that there's just not any time for Grumpy to bring up what he thinks he's going to do. When asked, he probably just says he's thinking about becoming a doctor.

When Luffy is about to sail off, I think Grumpy will set out as well and he'll tell Luffy where he's going (a Marine base, to enlist). And just like with Koby, Luffy instantly accepts it. That's his little brother after all, he knows what he's doing! And he'd probably insist on taking Grumpy with him, just for a bit, but no, thank you, Grumpy isn't going to sail on a pirate's ship ;3 He's going to take commercial vessels, do it properly.

(And then when Grumpy makes his way to the base he wanted to enlist in he finds it completely demolished by Luffy. Great. Okay, then let's head to Logue Town, Smoker is rather well known here as well. And then, well... Again. In the middle of the meeting with Smoker to enlist, Luffy happens to Logue Town and Tashigi bumps into something, spilling coffee over his enlistment form. What was his name again? Can't read it... Oh well, make sure No Brows catches the first ship heading towards HQ tomorrow! Says the man who has no brows either. I think. Does Smoker have eyebrows?? *lol*)

I think Dragon will be the one the most worried about Grumpy's choice to enlist. He did the same thing, he walked the same path and it is soul crushing. But Grumpy has to make those choices himself, they can't tell him no and allow the other kids to follow their (very dangerous) dreams. It is a big risk, considering that there will be people in HQ who will look at the boy and go "huh, I swear I've seen this face before" but Garp's in HQ as well and Crocodile is technically an employee of the WG as well. It'll be fine.

It's far from fine, Marineford wrecks all of them.

(Of course, if anyone has any ideas let me know, this verse isn't particularly fleshed out, I'm just listing various ideas and we'll see what sticks around *lol*)

[ecargmura]

The Apothecary Diaries Episode 30 Review - Crystal Pavilion Conspiracy

There’s always something going on in the Crystal Pavilion and it seems that there won’t be any more conspiracies there now. I’ve been told that Shin had appeared in the first episode, so I did go back to watch the first episode and saw that was the case. It seems that everything bad that happened in the Crystal Pavilion all revolved around Shin and that’s pretty crazy when you think about it.

On the topic of episode 1, Shin had shown up when she noticed Maomao’s message but discarded it, which then resulted in the death of Lihua’s newborn son, but it did eventually led to the banning of the white face powder that caused the late infant prince’s death. It makes me wonder: since Shin is revealed to keep banned items, was she the reason why that one servant girl kept the face powder back in episode 4? It would make sense if that were the case since Lihua was weary and wanted to die at the time; Shin would’ve found it a good opportunity to get rid of her if that was the case; since she’s also a high position of power in the Crystal Pavilion, her words are definitely of power to the servant girls.

Shin’s motive in all of this is basically driven by envy. She prepared herself all her life to become a consort and believed she was the best candidate, but her cousin Lihua was chosen over her. She believed that if she gets rid of Lihua, then she could have a chance, but that’s not really the case. I think it’s obvious why she wasn’t chosen other than the lack of…vavoom; Shin is too focused on status and power while Lihua isn’t. A noticeable trait that the consorts have is that they all aren’t too power hungry and that’s possibly the reason why the current Emperor took them in as concubines.

Lihua certainly went through a lot of character development. When she was first seen, she had slapped Gyokuyou and seemed mean and arrogant. Episode 4 had her be very weary due to the loss of her son, but Maomao was able to get her spirits up. Now, in this episode, she’s going all out with firing her own cousin by slapping her and almost punching her. She certainly took a page out of Maomao’s book with the b*tchslap. In fact, it’s crazy to see her go from weary to be the concubine ready to throw hands. She’s gotten so strong! Maybe it’s because Maomao helped her reevaluate the importance of her own life and now that she’s pregnant again, she doesn’t want to repeat the same tragedy—she’s fighting for her unborn child even harder.

This episode shows that even if the concubine is the nicest person around, the corruption is mainly due to the people around them. No one has to worry about the Jade Pavilion’s ladies as she only has a few and they’re all trustworthy people. Shin is probably the main reason for the corruption in the Crystal Pavilion as she’s the one who quarantined the sick servant girl instead of getting her help for her cough to the point that Shenlu, the clinic lady, had to request Maomao to give her medicine. It makes you wonder what the system in the Diamond and Garnet pavilion are like…

Shin is voiced by Sayaka Kinoshita, who you might have heard in Delicious Party Precure as Secretoru and also in Pokemon Sun and Moon as Lusamine. Her voice acting was actually really good towards the end where she started screaming and tried to throw the basket of fragrance at Lihua. It’s a really good voice, so it feels unfortunate that this is probably the last time Shin will be seen. Shenlu is voiced by Masako Katsuki, who is known for voicing Tsunade from Naruto. It’s crazy how stacked the voice cast is for this anime.

I wonder what’s up with the Emperor towards the end. Is he reminiscing the past or something? Maybe there was another similar incident in the past and that’s why the episode ends with him looking back? I honestly can’t wait to see what next week has in store. What are your thoughts on this episode?

[good-beanswrites]

Hello hello! It's me again! (That one Anon who requested Lies with Kazui & Yuno, but I've set up my account now so no need to ask anonymously again lol) Thank you for satisfying my previous request, it was such a delight to read. I keep rereading it every now and then and I'm still always left in awe with it like jesus christ you didn't have to go all in on that im sobbing with the 0207 friendship dynamic.

I've also seen your latest post and drabble asks. I'd like to request from the Drabble List#1 - #5 “Idiots. They are all idiots.” with Es themselves!

Let the prisoners have fun and Es just stares at them nonchalantly, silently judging their idiocy from afar, hell, maybe even let Yuno/Mikoto convince them to join. You can do anything as long as you think it'll fit, they're all just a little silly (minus the fact they're in prison lol).

With all that said, take your time and no rush! I can always wait. Thanks a lot! ...now back to rereading my previous request for the nth time,, i love it so much,, thankyouagain

Ah thank you so much, that means so much!! I'm so glad you liked it, that one was really nice to write :'D And yesss thank you for the request -- this was such a blast to do as well! (though I also made myself emotional over Es' lost childhood, that was less fun ;___;) I debated on several activities within the prison but thought this was plausible and fun for some mid-T1 shenanigans

Es had a job to do. They had many eyes watching them. They had several lives in their hands. They had heavy responsibilities. They didn’t have time for something as silly as ‘video game night’, regardless of the laughter that bubbled up from the common room as they passed by. They were not way tempted to join, regardless of how much fun the group seemed to be having when they peered their head in.

Fuuta had whined that Es had replaced all his requests with completely outdated consoles and games, confirming they had been successful in choosing things without any access to the internet or outside world. Plus, they thought, this gave the older prisoners a fighting chance with some of the games.

Not that they cared whether or not the prisoners had a good time. That wasn’t any concern of theirs. Even in these long periods of rest between their more eventful duties, they must remain focused.

The laughter crescendoed into delighted screaming.

Es figured one more look inside wouldn’t hurt. They were supposed to be keeping an eye on everyone, after all. 

The prisoners had gathered various chairs and bedding material, creating makeshift couches. Some piled onto the new seating, some splayed out on the ground, others stood in excitement. The television was so small, the two players needed to lean all the way forward to see. 

Mahiru bounced in her seat as Yuno whipped around her remote. Fuuta was demanding Kazui play better, gesturing wildly at the screen. Shidou chucked to himself as the others grew more intense. Haruka kept asking questions about the game, receiving an answer only about half the time. 

As the match got closer, Yuno leapt to her feet. She tried to shimmy in front of Kazui and block his view. He stood to prod her out of the way. Muu called foul play, though she said it with a thrill rather than accusation. Fuuta repeated it -- with quite a lot of accusation -- and tried to push Yuno out of the way. Mikoto tried to hold him back, voicing his support of Yuno’s methods. 

The others got caught up in the yelling. Amane’s eyes were wide in anticipation. Kotoko pumped her fist as the battle got even closer. The room erupted in movement and shoving and tripping and remote pulling -- until they yanked the tiny television forward. 

The thick cord came free, and the screen went black just before a winner was announced. Ten voices chorused their outrage.

Es shook their head. “Idiots. They are all idiots.”

They turned away as the prisoners hurried to set everything up again. They were just about to turn the corner into the panopticon when Yuno’s voice called from behind.

“Hey!” She ran up, taking advantage of their brief pause. “I saw you passing by. Why don’t you come join us?”

Not for the first time, Es wished they had enough height to look down on all the prisoners. “I’m your warden. I’m not some child here to play games with you all.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not a kid either. But I’m still down for a night to unwind.”

“You’re lucky to have the luxury to relax. I, on the other hand, am busy right now.”  

Yuno made a show of looking left, then right, across the empty hallway. “And what exactly are you doing right now?”

“I’m working.”

She frowned. “Uh-huh…”

“I am!” They fumbled for more, coming up blank. They should have known the moment she came skipping over to them that it would be impossible to fool her. There was no need for this routine check of the prison; everyone was gathered in the common room except them. Yuno had known this before uttering a single word.

Her hands fluttered in a dismissive gesture. “Too much work is never good for you. It doesn’t matter how mature you are -- if you get too caught up in your job it’ll drive you to some crazy things.” She smirked. “Just look at Shidou. Or Mikoto!”

“I could look at you…”

Though surprise flickered across her face, she kept grinning. “Exactly! So let’s get you in here.” She tugged on their arm. Prisoners couldn’t physically move Es against their will. 

They huffed as they found themselves inching closer and closer to the entryway.

“I suppose I can come and watch,” they muttered, “and still keep an eye on you all.”

“No! No more working!” She managed to get them into the room. “Here, you can take my spot in the next round.”

Kazui looked over. “Who said you were getting the next spot?”

“Oh come on, I was clearly going to win that one.”

“Clearly? I'm pretty sure was seconds away from beating you.”

“Well then, I guess Es can take your spot.”

“Es is playing?” Haruka looked up excitedly. 

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

It was as if they hadn’t said anything at all. The others launched into a discussion of who would give their remote to Es? Who would they’d face off against? Were they resetting the bracket they’d begun? Which game would they return to? The ten argued in circles for a while. For a group of murderers, they were insistent on a fair tournament. After breaking up some bickering that could have become physical, Es once again wondered how they ended up watching over a mess like this. 

At length the game was chosen, and a rematch was slated for Yuno and Kazui later in the night. To save themself time and sanity, Es went ahead and picked their opponent.

“I’ll play Fuuta.” 

He had been the obvious choice: he could supply enough chatter for the both of them, so Es could remain silent. Also, he was guaranteed to win and free them from an obligation to play more than one round. They flashed a look at some of the more observant prisoners, hoping they didn’t tip them off.

However, no one was really watching them too keenly. Mahiru clapped in joy. Yuno beamed. Mikoto shoved a remote into their hands. Haruka started rapidly explaining the rules to them. Shidou directed Es to their seat in the center. Kotoko gave them an encouraging nod. As expected, Fuuta was already deep into trash talk as he sat next to them.

They really were simple-minded people, more focused on this silly game than the fact their warden had just sat amongst them. It was dangerous to let one’s guard down in a place like this, Es reminded themself. 

With a little jingle, the match began. 

Their fingers flew across the controls. Though they had a rocky start, some sort of muscle memory kicked in. Surely this game had come out before they were born, and there was no way they’d played it regularly. None of that mattered much. Their little avatar was obviously gaining the lead.

Their eyes stayed fixed on the screen as they received slaps on the back and nudges. Their guard's cap was knocked off in the shuffling, but they couldn't risk picking it up. Voices called all around them.

“Aw, don’t just let the kid win!” Mikoto said.

“I’m not!” Fuuta was desperate. “They fucking tricked me! They’re a pro!”

Es felt energy run through their entire body. Their original plan already slipping away, they wondered if they could actually beat Fuuta. It would be fun to see… They leaned forward, holding their breath. The audience continued cheering the pair on. Once again, the room was swept up in shouts.

The match ended. A little banner flashed across the screen to name Es victorious. They jumped up, a small whoop escaping them. 

They would’ve melted in shame right then and there, if the sound weren’t already drowned out by the surrounding chaos. The others laughed and shook Es in amazement. Fuuta let out a string of colorful language.

“That was incredible!”

“Holy shit!”

“How’d you do that?”

Es placed the cap back on their head, pulling it over their eyes. “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. I’m done for the night.” They tried to pass off the remote, but Mikoto pushed it back into their hands. 

“Nuh-uh. I want to see this for myself.” He grabbed the other one from a dejected Fuuta. “Same game. Same characters. Lemme see what you’ve got.”

Es wasn’t meant to play one round, much less get caught up in their ridiculous tournament.

Don’t be an idiot, they told themself.

“Bring it on,” they told Mikoto.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[trashlie]

oh i almost forgot! i also wanted to say thank you for your commentary on 223, you really hit the nail on the head describing all the ways in which shinae and nol's situations in terms of trauma and healing are similar and different. we've been shown the parallels, now the differences become much more obvious. and it's important to keep in mind that nol's circumstances *are* very different. opening up and getting close to people really does put him and them in danger because he's haunted and hunted by yui. and not to belittle shinae's situation but for him it's more than just the fear of being vulnerable and getting hurt in the process. so yeah, thanks for pointing that out! it does make me wonder if nol can ever be comfortable as long as yui is around... would she let him be if kousuke gets the ceo position, or would she keep tormenting him for fun? it's a suffocating situation, it probably really is best if he spends a couple of years away from... everything, so he can at least breathe...

-lil anon

I feel like the BEST thing about your asks is that you always manage to hit on a topic I've been thinking a lot about and BOY is this one of those!

I don't think I remembered to make this point in my 223 (or even 224) commentary, because there was so much to get over and just a lot of feelings to feel lol but especially re: the differences in Shinae and Nol's trauma is just how that affects the ways they react?

Something I've recently noticed about Shinae is that despite her mother leaving when she was young, she has an almost naive perception of family. I don't say this in a negative way at all, because she means the best of it. She just... expects that families are families, despite their circumstances. For better or worse, she and Shimhan have, mostly, been a team. He has done everything to take care of her, never made her feel bad when they moved so she could attend a new school, ran himself ragged trying to keep them afloat - even when it came to negatively affect them. To her, family is there for you. They have your back. They have an obligation to you and they fulfill it.

It took some time before she could see Yui for who she really was, and she was able to believe that Yui truly loves Kousuke. I think this is why so many readers stayed convinced of that, too, for so long. Because Shinae sees it, too. It has to be true. Yui does awful things because it comes from a good place. But we've learned that's not so.

She envied Alyssa for everything she had - money, a big home, all the things she could ever want, parents who were suffocating. She was blinded by her own absence of a mother and couldn't understand how parents who are TOO doting were a bother - and I don't fault her for this at all! But as a result, she also couldn't understand the implications of Alyssa changing so readily when her father came home. The darker concepts of a perhaps abusive father didn't seem to cross her mind, because she comes from an incredibly loving father who has never really made her feel any kind of fear.

Even very recently, she went through the same thing with Nol.

It was only afterward that she caught herself and remembered what she had learned from Kousuke and about Nol's parentage. And look, I don't fault her here - she has lived a life of struggle, certain that if only they had more money, if only they didn't have these struggles, life would be better. And that's true - if her father didn't have to work so hard, if he had the leisure to finish nursing school without having to pay hospital bills, they could probably have lived a more comfortable and relaxing life.

But money only solves her issues because the issue IS money. Alyssa's issue is not the money. Nol's issue isn't the money. Having a big house doesn't mean to him what it would to her, because he doesn't have the family to fill that home. Their own personal issues cloud and shape their perceptions of others. When you've spent your life struggling, looked down on because you're poor, when you only have the room in your life to think of survival and getting by, getting free food at whatever the cost, exceling in school so you have a chance at getting scholarships to allow you to go to university, then yeah, you WOULD envy Nol's position. A wealthy family, no need to work, all the free time to study, able to buy food for other people, never having to question when your next meal is or if there will be another time that you might face eviction is a dream for her.

But it's only a dream because she has a father who loves her and she doesn't have to question his support. What good is a big home when you feel like you're trapped in it? Not that Nol has even lived with them (according to him). What good is all that wealth if you're still lonely, if you fee no warmth or love from your father, when your mother is gone?

Shinae never means any harm by these misconceptions, either. It's just that to her, she's never had to doubt her family. To her, family supports you, they have your back, they take care of you. It's easy to forget that not everyone has that.

And yeah, I think this largely shapes the way they navigate their trauma because right, exactly, in comparison, Shinae's struggles AREN'T as bad as Nol's, and that doesn't belittle her struggles. But it's true. Even the darkest time of her life, when her father was hospitalized and they were facing eviction and she had to call upon a favor from Kousuke, as she tried to hide away at the formal, Nol showed up and had her back. And thus, she equates herself as doing the same for him. He was persistently there for her at every turn, and it was able to wear her down until she could see the good in his persistence, until she could finally see the merit of letting someone catch you when you fall. And because that's her experience, she had believed it might be his, as well - that she could be there for him enough that he could be as vulnerable with her as she was with him, that he would reciprocate the trust.

And because she doesn't know how much deeper his wound is, because she doesn't know how dark it is, she can't help but take his refusal to open up as a sleight. From her vantage, doesn't it feel like he doesn't trust her? Doesn't it feel like he can't open up to her? I think she would understand, if she knew just a little more. How can we expect her to understand when he just tells her he doesn't need to see (her joy!), he's okay being in the dark?

We've seen Shinae grow a lot, but I think we'll continue to see that growth with Nol, if/when/however they find a place for that common ground. She acts on her own experiences - she was able to become a better friend, to open up to people, to be more vulnerable - and believes that it's the same for others. But I think whenever she finds out how deep Nol's wounds are, she'll understand more. She'll be able to see why it's so much harder for him to be as vulnerable as her.

It's just a matter of her gaining that knowledge.

I know none of this is really new lol but it's just something that's been floating around in my head LMAO

ANYWAY lmao I think... yeah. I think as long as Yui exists, there's no peace. Yui messes with Nol BECAUSE he exists. Yes it's partly to ensure that Kousuke gets to where he needs to be, but I think mostly it's just because he exists. Because he was never meant to, because he benefits from her family, because he is a blight on her image (her husband has an illegitimate child so everyone knows he had an affair and boy Rand sure does embarrass her and her family doesn't he). I think Yui just takes joy from making him miserable and making him suffer, regardless of whether or not Kousuke is succeeding at what she set him up to do.

That said, I do think a major part of Nol's character mgiht be finding comfort in being able to rely on others. It won't make his life less suffocating, exactly, but it might be more bearable if he doesn't feel so alone, if he knows he has people to turn to. In a way, I think this is one of those things where we see that Nol/Shinae, Rand/Nessa parallel/foil. Nessa wanted to be that refuge to Rand, it seems by her letters. She wanted to be a beacon of hope, someone who helped him keep going when it was hard. He carried around that Bible full of her letters, of the love they shared. But he was married, he had an obligation to his family, to his career, and thus he could not rely on Nessa the way she wanted him to. He repressed everything, he turned cold and icy so Yui had nothing to use against him, he learned to be unfazed in the face of her taunting, and he lost himself in doing so. If Nol never learns to open up, to be vulnerable, to seek refuge in people, that would be his future, too. Repressing everything about him in effort to just survive. But as evidenced by Rand, what kind of survival is that? There's no living if you live that way.

I agree that Nol will never know true peace if Yui remains around and possesses the power/influence she does. But I think if Nol finds it in him to be vulnerable, and to learn what it is like to trust people, to let that guard down a little, to find a pocket of safety where he can breathe, maybe it would make it bearable. It's hard to fight back when you live in fight or flight mode. It's hard to fight back when you spend all your energy just surviving - but if you can find a place where you can rest? Where you can recharge? Where you can regain that energy and strength, it's easier to fight back and to endure, I think.

[bmpmp3]

ffffffuuuuuck eclipsed sounds added some previews to the starry court sv2 ver upgrade pages and asterian's gentle mode almost made me pass away. it was always a preddy good soft mode but now its like INTIMATE

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni

[something-of-a-hermit]

Why is O Superman (Laurie Anderson) so incredibly comforting but also I’m sobbing my eyes out at 12am over the line “and when force is gone, there’s always Mom (hi, mom!)”?

[dravidious]

You're good and cool and epicc

Finally started playing Pseudoregalia today, and got stuck for like an hour backtracking through the same areas over and over because I only had 1 ability, which was just enough to get into lots of places that had lots of dead ends that require other abilities. The perils of open-ended world design

[willyoubemycherryy]

“Who’s your new friend?” (Salesman x reader)

Summary: Your dad’s dark stranger is the one for you. Too bad about his cruel streak….

Contains: sit down chicas this is a LONG one, plot but gratuitous p+rn, dads!friend au, rough sex, edging, pussy spanking, he’s mean :( , choking, drugging, everything IS consensual bc I’m tired of everyone writing him as a domestic terrorlzing rapist, he’s still psychotic and unhinged tho, just not psychosexual because psychotic traits don’t always translate to sexual violence, your dad is sweet but trusting and naive, squirting, pussyspanking unprotected sex (don’t be a dummy, wrap your gummy) begging, degradation, praise, cursing, reader is a bit of a bitch, light dom/sub dynamics, his cock is stuuuupid fat bc I said so and have eyeballs, ur 22 in this period and he’ll spit in your mouth in the next installment of this series :)

A/N: Yeah, he got me y’all😔 Gong Yoo sexy, fine, tall, handsome ass got me😞I’ve been tripping out for 17 days straight over this man sooo…

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ _ _

_ ➵ ✩ ◛ ° . +

You knew your dad often had strange friends but this one takes the cake.

Raising a skeptical eyebrow at the tall man your father was currently introducing you to. Standing over 6 feet in a pitch black suit he was extremely easy on the eyes with full lips, perfectly styled hair, relaxed posture and not a wrinkle in sight paired with the darkest almond eyes you’d ever seen. You rove your eyes over him once more before looking back up to find him staring back at you…

Yes, he was perfectly lovely but was it too soon to assume something about him was..off?

You feel your face warm at how strong his gaze is but you stare back defiantly, mentally cursing your too trusting dad.

“…and since we chat almost everyday during our commute to work- would you guess that we’re both in sales and marketing?- I thought it’d be great to invite him over and talk more in a more comfortable setting!” Your dad says excitedly, smiling as he tells you all about his new friend. The man smiles alongside him, cheeks faintly dimpling and despite your distrust, you can’t take your eyes off of him as you feel your heart beat harder in its cage.

“I was going to call to tell you I was bringing company but you know I forget to use that thing.” ‘That thing’ being a modern phone to a man who was awful with tech. You scoff but nod to let him know you don’t mind (completely) and because you already know how your father is and he continues,

“Oh right! Speaking of forgetting, I don’t remember if I ever mentioned my daughter even though I know I probably did-“, you listen to your dad introduce you and the man smiles even wider as he steps forward, offering his hand to yours in a shake.

“How pleasant to meet you.” Holy shit. His voice is a lot deeper than you expected and you absentmindedly place your hand into his waiting one. The way it completely encases your hand due to its sheer size makes your heart stop before it melts down to a warm pool in your lower stomach, settling in your core like hot tea as you breathe out a shaky exhale. His hand is also rougher than you thought it’d be for a simple businessman as it squeezes yours and a quick flash image of that same hand around your throat has you snatching your hand back as you shoot him a tight smile.

“Right. Back at ya. Um, how old are you again?”

“Ah. Isn’t that improper to ask new people?”

“I’m just curious to how you maintain a career as developed as my dads because you seem so young.”

Oh. You’re quick witted; that makes things a potential hassle for him.

“Well, I’m much older than you. I’m certainly older than your father.”

“Ha! Are you also the Emperor of China-”, You’re cut off as your dad says your name in the way he does when you’re being rude but you ignore it, glaring at the man.

“Be polite! He’s older so you should speak respectfully”, you barely hide the roll of your eyes but your fathers new friend catches it and you swear you hear a huff of amusement from him, the low sound makes you shiver as you turn on your heel to go back upstairs, your dads scolding calling after you.

“Aish! Spoiled! Brat! You were so much cuter when you were younger!”

“Whatever!”

“Bellybutton lint!”

“Old man!”

“Oh yeah?! You won’t be 22 forever!”

The only response he gets back is the sound of your bedroom door slamming while you’re all too aware of the eyes on your back when you’d left. Your dad sighs as he runs a hand down his face. The salesman simply stands quietly, grinning as always as he observes your little spat. Something about it caught his attention though.

“She’s young.” And your father agrees, insisting that’s part of the reason for your behavior, you apparently were “much nicer” and he nods in understanding.

“College age is tricky. I met her mom around her age and things are so much more different than they were back in our day so I try not to be too hard on her but sometimes she’s so-!” He tilts his head as he waits for your dad to find the word.

“Difficult!”

Ah. How cute. A little attitude problem.

That honestly doesn’t surprise him because most pretty little things almost always had one- you were no exception. Though, you yourself were a pleasant surprise. He’d maintained a friendly relationship with your father on a mere whim, finding him to be…nice unlike most he considered nuisances, so when the man invited him over one day he accepted and as he trailed through the door behind him, taking in the warm tones of your house when he spotted you. Standing near the island by the kitchen in shorts so tiny the wide waistband made them look like a mini skirt, the words ‘PINK’ on the back and a snug white tee shirt, the blue of your bra peeking through, you walk towards them smelling of fabric softener and cold vanilla. Your hair was down as you stared at him like you were both scared and wanting with big eyes full of suspicion. The gloss of your lips shining back at him as your lips curl during your inspection of him, lightly arched brow raising as you gave him a thorough once over, eyes flicking back up to his when you were done. You were absolutely delicious to look at. Short, smart mouthed, pretty and prissy.

He didn’t mind the rude way you spoke to him- no- because your eyes tell. You were weary but interested; cynical in all the ways your father wasn’t but that was perfectly fine.

His smile slowly shifted into a smirk as he followed your father to the living room, humming whenever he would speak, but his thoughts were preoccupied.

Thinking of smooth legs on a cute face he’d love to see wet with tears as he spanked your smart ass raw.

•

•

•

When you went upstairs the first thing you did was grab your headphones and tune out.

What the fuck was your dad thinking??

You huff as you flop on your bed, scrolling through your favorite apps while you tried to slow your thoughts.

Everything is fine.

Your dad always has the most unconventional friends and acquaintances so this was probably just that and you were freaking out more than usual because he was unfathomably attractive. That’s it. You just needed to get a grip. But fuck would you love to ride him through the weekend if only he didn’t have such a concerning aura…and wasn’t pals with your dad of-course.

About 2 hours later when you go downstairs to get food and bring it back to your room-answering curtly when your dad asks if you want to join him and the hot stare of the suited man you’re trying to pretend isn’t there.

“Hard no. Do I look like a nurse? You two senior citizens can play amongst yourselves.”

You sigh when you get back up to your room, FaceTiming your friends as you eat, talking about whatever and whoever before you remember you need to organize some of your class notes and say goodbye before you hang up.

It takes less time than you thought it would so when you’re done, you go about your night routine. Teeth, skincare, oversized cotton shirt, lights off as you put on a movie you’ve seen a million times. It’s harder for you to fall asleep when you can still hear his deep voice through the walls talking and laughing with your dad, shaking your core as you toss and turn- physically fighting the feeling- until you fall asleep.

X

Another few hours later, you wake with a start. Something’s not right.

You can still hear the tv downstairs but no voices. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and as you turn your head towards your door- pulling the covers off your legs, the sight of a tall dark figure rips a blood curdling scream from your throat. In that same second the figure steps closer, the light from your tv illuminates him and your heart races as you stare back wide eyed at your dads suited stranger friend. You’re still gasping and reeling as he sits down on your soft bedding, watching with rapt eyes at you trying to calm down from the near heart-attack he almost gave you.

“W-what..what the fuck?!” He smiles as you get up to yell in his face, gesturing wildly.

“Why the hell are you in my-“, you cut yourself off as another realization dawns on you completely and he can’t help the compulsion he feels towards you.

“How long have you been in my room- wait where’s my dad?!” If you knew who he was and what he did for a living, you’d be much more agreeable…or maybe not and that’s what fascinated him about you. You were so unusual. Wanting to steer clear of him instead of on, even though he’d piqued your curiosity, you didn’t blindly follow like every other nuisance did; instead he was the inconvenience and the way you let him know via sharp words and distrusting looks was something he hadn’t gotten in a while. The way you brushed him and your hard working dad off with no more than a pretty glare while probably never having actually worked for anything in your life made him itch to correct you. Make you say sorry- break you back into the sweet girl he knew you could be.

“I swear to god- WHERE IS MY DAD-!“, before you can raise your voice anymore, turning to go find him yourself, he’s pulling you back by your wrist, covering your mouth with his other hand as he hooks his chin over your shoulder cooing at you to calm down - listen to him a bit.

“Shh. Your father is alright, had too much to drink so he’s passed out downstairs but safe nonetheless.” You feel your body relax against your will at his words but you still bite his palm for scaring the hell out of you. The pain that blooms up his wrist from his hand makes him hiss against your ear and you wish it didn’t sound so good before it trails off into a light chuckle.

“I’m going to move my hand. You won’t scream. Understand?” You roll your eyes but nod anyway and a few seconds later his hand is lowered but he keeps you sitting up against him.

“Look- if you’re some kind of extortionist or blackmailer, my dad only works for clean honest compan-“,

“I’m none of those things.” Huh. You’re even more confused but the silence that follows he doesn’t break instead he waits for you, enjoying your discomfort as you shift against him.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Nothing better to do in your ancient age on a Tuesday night besides creep around?” Your mouth would be the death of you and this might very well be the moment as you mouth off to a complete stranger who could be (and actually is) very dangerous but bravado was all you had. You’d seen and heard more than enough to know that an older man in a suit visiting a young girl he didn’t know in the dead of night never ended well.

“I want to chat for a bit.” You tilt your head a bit in confusion but he takes your silence as the go ahead, making your heart pound when he shuffles even closer causing you to feel his firm pecs through his expensive smelling dress shirt; the heady combination makes your pulse race as you fight yourself on whatever it is exactly that you’re feeling but shouldn’t be.

“When your father mentioned you, you sounded like such a nice girl…”, the low way he speaks resembles a purr, words vibrating his chest, thick arms holding you tight to him as his warm breaths coast across your chest and neck.

“Imagine my surprise when I meet you and you’re nothing more than an ungrateful little princess with a pretty face but very nasty attitude.” You feel your face warm in shame at the blatant way he calls you out, immediately defensive as you shoot back,

“What’s it to you? If you want to see some obedient thing then get a boarder collie-!” Enough of that. His hand claps down over your throat, squeezing not enough to hurt but enough to make you shut up as your heart rate spikes, nerves going haywire at the sudden cut of oxygen. You get dizzy quick. Blood rushing through your ears like a current of cotton, hand flying up on instinct to pull at his muscled forearm but it doesn’t budge and you whine- biting your lip as your heart beats liquid fire through your body. You were so fucked up, clamping your thighs shut as if that will stop you from getting wet but it’s hard to pay attention to that with a tight hand around your neck and mean lips against your ear.

“Didn’t your father tell you to respect your elders?” He tuts out and you nod desperately, willing to swallow your snideness if it meant getting air. He loosens his grip enough for you and you gasp so hard you nearly choke, the sound turning him on more than it should; he grabs your chin so you face him with teary eyes and he nearly groans at how weak you look. The sedatives he slipped in your dad’s drink would last for a while so for now it was just you and him.

“Answer me.”

“You first-“, you’re quick to shut your mouth as a smirk grows on his face. A fast learner.

“Smart. But”, he pauses to put you on edge before continuing, “because I quite enjoy your father and his company, I don’t like the thought of him being troubled by anything.” His words are sweet but they also fill you with dread because you know how much you intentionally butt heads with your father. Mouthing off at him just to amuse yourself sometimes. You never meant to stress him but messing with him a little was how you showed your affection.

“That includes you as well.” He rasps against your neck, nipping the sensitive skin there with more teeth than tongue and you choke on a moan, breathing hard.

“Okay. Got it. I need to be nicer-”,

“No, you need a firm hand.” Oh fuck. You bite your lip at that, watching through bleary eyes as he rubs his other hand down your chest, brushing your hard nipples through your shirt as he feels up your soft curves. The hand around your throat tightens when he feels you might move but when you don’t he doesn’t loosen it- instead he rewards you with wet, scalding kisses behind that spot under your ear, suckling down until he reaches your collarbones. Your eyes water from all the sensations as you try to rationalize what’s going on before you lose yourself to how good you feel.

The hand caressing over your body doesn’t stop, threatening to burn you alive with the heat it ignites in you. To make matters worse, you can’t even breathe deeply enough to calm down with the hold he has on your neck and you’re reminded of how pathetically wet you are whenever you move your legs as you’re completely naked underneath your shirt. So much is happening but it’s not enough. Fleetingly scarce touches is all you’re being given but you need more. You shouldn’t want this, want him- or anything having to do with him- but you do and that thought scares you more than any potential repercussions.

He watches you with an unreadable expression as you shift constantly, sliding a hand under your shirt to cup your tits, flicking and twisting the stiff nubs cruelly between his fingers. Laving his tongue over each bruise he’s left on your neck before choking you harder, making the veins on the back of his hand show and your mouth drops open, hoarse broken moans falling as your hips twitch upwards. This was how he liked you. Melting into him so obediently…

“You’re going to be a good girl now?” He asks like it’s a question but the even in hazy state you’re falling into, you know it’s an order. He loosens his grip again so you can answer, voice hoarse,

“..y-yeah.” The softened tone you use when you respond makes him hard beyond belief and he bites your shoulder with a satisfied groan and you swear your cunt has a pulse. The familiar burning ache is so blinding that you listen immediately when he tells you-

“Open your legs.”

He almost didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed the way your hips snapped up to hump his hand… he was preoccupied with just how wet you were. Your arousal coats his fingers as he slides them between your sopping lips making you keen through shuddering breaths as you try to control yourself. A few hard circles to your clit shatters that control as you cry out, needy sobs falling from your gloss smeared lips while you beg prettily for him.

“Please! I-! I’ll-anything! Just-!” His hand collar tightens again as he slides two fingers knuckle deep in your spasming hole, immediately curling them towards him, grinding them against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you and the fire that’s been steadily burning inside you almost makes you black out from how quick it threatens to consume you. You’ve never felt more out of your mind, your cunt so soaking wet it’s audible. White-searing pleasure shoots electricity through every nerve and you’re screaming. Between the fuzz in your head from oxygen loss or the brutal way he’s fucking you with his fingers- the one thing you do know is that if you cum now, you’ll faint.

“Waittt- mm-! S-stopp!!” It’s the struggle of a lifetime to get the words out but you do and when you do, surprisingly- he listens. Taking his fingers out as the strings of your slick drip from them and you cry at the loss, the ache still there but you could at least breathe. You feel a nip at your ear and you only then notice the way you’ve rested your weight completely against him.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with arousal from how wonderfully you responded to him. So wet he could taste it in the air as you trembled and cried against him. The water in your eyes spilling down over as they rolled back into your skull. Your face was the perfect erotic expression of tormented bliss as he made you earn air and fight off an orgasm so strong it would’ve put you in a vegetative state.

The sound of your weak sniffles make his cock ache as he lays back on your bed, maneuvering your hips over his as he opens his pants, taking his length out he moans at the pressure relief. Swiping his fat head through your messy folds but not inside.

“Well? I need you to answer me. Or do I need to get it out of you myself?” You shake your head, lifting your arms when he moves your shirt up off you and now you’re completely naked while he’s still clothed. As much as his stare intimidated you, his attentions felt even better, moaning at the dirty kisses his cock gave your hole.

“Was gonna cum…but you didn’t say I could yet”, you reach up to use his arm as leverage while you wiggle your hips and your submission drives him mad with how much he wants to ruin you.

“Aw. That’s cute…but if you came before I let you, what then? Are you smart enough to tell me?” He asks sweetly but the condescending undertone makes you feel dumb as heat blooms in your chest and you will away the fuzz that’s making it hard to think so you can give him a proper answer. One that would please him. The fact that you even wanted to please him was something you’d have to get back to.

“I’d be in trouble?” You say it like a question and less of an answer and he finds your uncertainty so cute as he laughs indulgently at you.

“Close. It’s because you���re my good girl. And my girl only does as she’s told, yeah?” The same trickling tingle at the base of your skull is back again as you mindlessly repeat after him.

“Yeah.” He hums, lining himself up with your drooling pussy, sliding in with one thrust. Gritting his teeth with a heavy groan while you choke on a sob.

“Fuckin’ tight-!” Deep grunting in your ear overwhelming you in the best way and you lose it from how full you are. You could’ve guessed by his height and frame that he’d be packing but it felt fatter than you would have ever been able to accurately guess, pressing effortlessly against every spot that made you see stars.

You were everlastingly grateful your dad was knocked out because the sounds coming from you and your room were beyond incriminating. Even though he wasn’t moving, every-time you did, you could feel the deliciously heavy pressure against your slick walls. Shivers wracking up your body as wheezing fucked out moans left your mouth and you grind down in messy circles until the hand on your throat stops you.

“Look at you. Desperate n’ wet begging to cum. You’d do anything I tell you, huh? Just like a dog.”

A disgustingly pathetic warble is his reply but he wants more from you, choking you hard as he pinches your sensitive nipples.

“Uhhn! Yes!” The sheer desperation in your shaky voice gives him a sick head-rush.

“Open your legs for me.”

You obey before he even finishes his sentence. Thighs falling apart, cooled air over your center makes you moan wetly as you wait patiently. So patiently that the first heavy slap against your pussy winds you by the time the pain registers. As soon as the sting settles, warmth pools in its place, sensitivity heightened as you wail. The stricken sound makes his cock throb inside you.

“Wha-!”, another slap cracks down on your swollen lips, hitting your clit spot on and again and you try in vain to wriggle away.

“You still need to prove to me that you’re sorry for your behavior earlier.” He says, voice casual but no less mocking and you cry. Tears running down your cheeks as your body struggles to adjust and obey. Before you can shout out however many strings of apologies it’ll take for him to let you cum, he strikes your center again, hissing in pleasure at your screams. He feels it. That somehow you’re even wetter, dripping down his balls and smearing your slick all over the front of his slacks. He has half a mind to make you clean it up when he’s done with with you as he spanks your cunt again, biting your ear hard until it reddens.

“If you cum before I tell you, I promise I’ll make this the longest night of your life”, he groans darkly in your ear. You’re blessed that you can still hear him through the bass of your heart’s beat and the loud, wet connect every time his hand comes down. You were so close. The sharp sting and the pained pleasure of swelling warmth his heavy hand left behind was too much and your poor clit couldn’t take much more. Gasping through your tears, you scramble to find the right words.

“‘Lease- please! Ah-m’sorry!” Your raspy voice breaks halfway through when lifts you only to slam you back down on his fat length, flicking your sensitive nub when he meanly asks you,

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Try again, little girl.” You night just be in for a long night after all.

You could barely breathe from how hard he was choking you, swollen pussy enflamed from countless spanks, and your center was stuffed to the brim as he was so big that he didn’t even have to try to hit your spots. You scratch and wrestle with his hand until he loosens it, gasping and whining, you pray you don’t come from the instant relief it gives you. The rush settling over you like a fuzzy blanket. He shifts below you and you hurry to get the words out before he makes you come without his say-so.

“I’m- I’m sorry! So sorry! Please Sir, can I-!”

Sir. You called him sir.

It’s less of you apologizing but more of you submitting to him, acknowledging him by title that he held superiority over you that pleases him enough to let you cum. Cutting off your sweet begging with more mean, heavy slaps to your wet pussy, basking in your delighted wails as he fucks up into you.

His hand tightens around your throat and this time, you welcome the suffocating pleasure. Scratchy cries escape when they can but you’re so far on the road to ecstasy that you don’t even care how you look or sound, chest heaving as your eyes water. Your cunt feels like it’s on fire but you beg him in every way you can to keep going even though you can’t take it and he does, groaning against your ear as he rubs messily at your throbbing clit.

“So good, baby- you can cum. Make your little mess before I make you beg some more-”, he does not have to tell you twice as everything you’ve been holding, releases and you do make a mess.

Mouth dropped open as you sob and for the next couple minutes hot unending pleasure is all you know as the stinging slaps get faster, ending with harsh circles on your bud after each one and your hole gets even tighter before you go limp- liquid jetting out of you. He fucks you through it with a tight grip on your windpipe, using you like a snug fleshlight until he’s coming harder than he has in a while at the state he’s put you in. He waits until he catches his breath to slide out of you- who’s deadweight as he lifts you off him.

Rolling off the bed, the silence makes him look over at you only to see that you’re out cold. His eyebrows raise as he huffs out an amused laugh, fixing his pants before brushing his hand over your pretty face. He might have overdone it he thinks as he sees your face return to it’s normal, less flushed hue. Leaning down, on impulse he presses a kiss to your cheek, his gentlest touch of the night before getting up and covering your worn naked body with one of the many blankets on your bed.

“You’re a treat in more ways than you know.”

As he stands, before he opens your door to leave, he pulls a card out of his pocket and leaves it on your nightstand then heads back downstairs to get his shoes and jacket. Turning off the tv where your dad sleeps easily and quietly slipping out the door, smiling the entire way. Now he has even more fun.

You.

•

•

•

When you wake up the next morning, you turn with a pleasant ache and stinging between your legs as you stretch, sighing with a blissful smile until you remember why you ache and who caused it.

Pushing yourself up, you stop when you see a card on your stand, rolling to the edge of your bed, you swipe it off and raise it to your face. It’s a picture of lollipop, a simple circle on a stick but the words below it make your chest warm and you don’t even bother pretending to yourself that you aren’t interested in seeing him again.

“Next time I’ll make you even sweeter.”

In part 2…